The Name of the Game
by Werepuppy Black
Summary: St Trinians character pieces. Chapter Nine - "Anoushka Srbova was royalty, on her mother’s side, and didn’t she just know it?"
1. Flash Harry: The Spiv

_**A/N: **__First ever St Trinian's fic. I would call this an attempt to create a bridge between the original St Trinian's movies (which are actually pretty hilarious and I recommend them to anyone who likes the 2007 film) and the 2007 film via the character of Flash Harry. And Miss Fritton as well. The character history given in here is mostly pretty fictional; as I am fairly sure the original Flash was never married. But for the purposes of this fic, we're going to have to pretend he was. So, I hope that's okay with you all and please review telling me what you think of the fic; as I have a few other 'character' pieces in mind and would like to know how I do writing in the St Trinian's 'fandom' before I write them_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing expect the laptop on which I wrote this story on, and dvd copies of the new film, and the originals.

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Miss Fritton often wondered why it came so easily; for a spiv and St Trinian's to go hand in hand like a pair of well tailored gloves. But then again, perhaps it came so naturally as for the most part it had always been this way. She looked out of her window, watching as the sixth form girls approached their Flash Harry, for he wasn't the first to bear the name, and she doubted he would be the last.

She had many memories of the original Flash Harry, he had been the 'spiv' when she had went through her schooling here, with her dear Auntie Millicent at the helm. He had been charming enough; polite to the school mistresses, and had acted as a substitute father for them: drawing a firm line in his 'relationship' with the students - especially a few of the then sixth formers who seemed to have hopes of something more. And beside which, Harry was married to the nice lady who lived in the nearby village who had the tendency to send sweet cakes and fizzy lemonade to the school. Camilla had always thought that Harry, who was really her Harry, to be a proper gentlemen. And she had always been fond of his wife, who happened to be an old St Trinian's head girl, as well as the sweet cakes she sent.

The had one child together. Harry's son, who had been named James for his mother's father, but had the middle name of Harry, was the same age as Camilla, and had often visited the school with his father, learning the subtle difference between being a spiv, and being what was now referred to as a gang leader. She couldn't quite remember if they had been called that back then, or if they were simply a whole different 'other.' James never quite had the aptitude to follow in his father's footsteps, much preferring to fool around with the girls, who were delighted at the attention he showed them, and it didn't hurt that he was rather handsome, His desire was to live the life he wanted to live, and not to live the life his father hoped he would. He had attended Oxford with her, choosing to study business, and had been the first person she turned to when Geoffrey Thwaites had broken her heart. James had been a dear friend to her, and when his father suffered from a stroke, she had join James at his side, waiting on any news.

Of course, Harry couldn't return to the school after his stroke, and James cared too much for his father to see the old man's heart broken about not being able to help the students and the school which he had become so fond of. He had taken up the position as spiv of St Trinian's with an enthusiasm that Camilla was certain was as fake as some of the products he sold to the older girls. Though he was handsome enough, and like his father before him, had attracted the eye of many a girl before too long. However, unlike his father, James did not see the harm in entertaining some of the girl's fantasies - his ego had always been a problem with him.

He had been especially taken by one exceptionally pretty girl, who had the unusual - for the time - name of Sarah - Louise. With a shade of brown in her hair that was to be envied, James seemed to follow her with a sense of being a lost puppy, trying to find it's owner again. Sarah - Louise, for her part, seemed almost oblivious to the attentions of James, which only seemed to spur him on. When she finally noticed his attentions, she was Head Girl at the school, and refused to act at she had to be some sort of role model for the younger girls. But James had persisted, and she had agreed to a date. Which turned into two, and then three … Eventually, one thing lead to another, and then lead to the current Harry.

Though he wasn't really a Harry, no, Flash fitted him much better than his given name. He oozed the charm that his grandfather had, and although he had the tendency to flirt with some of the girls, it never went any further. Compared to Harry and James though, Flash was only a child himself, only five years older than the oldest of the sixth form girls (Andrea, who had only recently turned 18), though he looked older than what he was. All the males in his family always looked older than what they were, though he had been the younger than his father had when he got into the family business, at only 18 years of age. She couldn't help but wonder if she should worry more with Flash than compared with James. It was true that he did not actively return any of the girls' feelings, and made sure never to cross that line that was there for his safety as much as theirs, but he was so much nearer their age, with the added bonus of the maturity that the boys at the local comprehensive school lacked.

And, of course, there was the complicated of the head girl. He seemed to have fallen, hook, line and sinker, and, although of course she would never show it, Camilla, as well as many of the girls if the jealous whispers of the Posh Totty trio were anything to go by (and when it came to school gossip they were often the most accurate sources), couldn't help but believe that said feelings were reciprocated. The flirting between always seemed that tiniest bit more intimate that it did with any of the other girls, and though she would often remind Flash that while they were in school they were off limits, she was well aware that she could not convince the girls of the same matter. It was a matter of concern, but it had never manifested itself into an actual problem. Flash was a man of his word, and he had given his word to never 'mess around wiv any of the girls.' Still didn't stop Kelly and himself trading glances and special smiles. Perhaps history would repeat itself, perhaps not.

Camilla Fritton often wondered why it was that a spiv and St Trinian's went hand in hand, but with this wonder came a newer thought: maybe she should begin to wonder why it was that the spiv and the Head Girl went hand in hand.


	2. Kelly Jones: Head Girl

_**A/N:**__ So, another chapter of 'The Name of the Game,' this time focusing on the Head Girl of St Trinian's, our favourite Kelly Jones. Now, the history I've built up for her here is entirely fictional: I just felt that it fitted that character and I hope you'll like it too. ^^. I believe the next chapter will come ... sooner or later. Sooner I hope. So, erm, yeah, read and enjoy! Reviews are cookies and cookies are love!

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Kelly Jones was every bit the model of stunning sophistication; combining good looks with brains, and making every challenge that came her way seem nothing more than a simple, if rather boring, detour on a journey she was taking. It was hardly any wonder that people fell for her, or that she was the head girl in a school of anarchists, rebels, and general rule breakers. She was what could be called nouveau riche, though it was within her grandfather's generation that her family had become rich, so it was debatable as to whether the term could still be connected with Kelly herself.

Kelly's father, the notorious Frankie Jones, was a big name in the crime underworld, his name being both revered and feared throughout various gangs. A self-styled 'crime lord', Frankie sat at the head of what, admittedly, was a rather impressively sized empire. Ironically enough, though he had many connections with the underworld, and it was almost certain some of the people who worked for him had been in prison at some point in their live, Frankie himself had never actually committed any unlawful act. Despite this, Frankie was a very intimidating person, his large build giving a very imposing silhouette. He was also surprisingly articulate, able to converse with the best of them, as Miss Fritton commented on delightfully at Kelly's first parent's weekend at the school. Kelly's mother had sadly passed away when she was only a child, but her grandmother had been there, helping to bring her up, and Frankie would always make sure that his business life didn't interfere in any way with his home life, something which became more difficult as Kelly grew older.

It was this little point which had lead Frankie to sending his child away to school, instead of sending her to the rather posh day schools he had visited. It had been remarked, by the newer, younger, and obvious slightly stupider members of his 'team' that his daughter was growing up to be rather pretty. Though these people had been swiftly reminded that Kelly was off-limits and if they even thought about it they would be in deep, deep, trouble, the thought nagged at the back of Frankie's mind. It became a blaring siren when some older members, those who he was happy enough to refer to as his friends, and had been around as Kelly grew up, quietly pointed out the same observation, though they did it more in concern, rather than lechery. They had been around long enough to see Kelly grow up after all, and many of them couldn't help but still see her as the small child with two messy bunches, rather than the stunner she was quickly growing into. Quicker than he would have previously thought possible for him, Frankie had began to look into boarding schools, trying to find the one which was right for his daughter.

St Trinian's School for Young Ladies wasn't a school which he knew anything of, compared to Cheltenham which he could find out perhaps a little too much on, but when he visited it with Kelly, looking around at all the classrooms and meeting some of the students, he couldn't help but give a wry smile. It was a school which was perfect for his own little girl, who had been expelled from her first preparatory school due to her inability to follow the most simple of rules. The school would make sure she would be able to take on the world head first, rather than have her head buried in the sand. And so it was decided, and Kelly entered St Trinian's half way through the third year. Her first phone call home, which - as per St Trinian's new girl custom - was always the morning following their first night in the dormitory, had raised her grandmother's eyebrows, bringing a rare chuckle from the old woman, and a soft smile to Frankie's lips. She would do well at St Trinian's.

At 16 years old, coming home for Christmas from the school, Frankie noticed a blush in his daughter's normally pale cheeks, as she muttered almost shyly about the school year, something which was unusual for a girl who was as almost outspoken as her father. With a little probing her grandmother came to the root of the matter; she always was the one who Kelly was most open with. Frankie never did find out what the cause of the matter was, as his mother had been sworn to secrecy by his daughter, and his mother always had been a woman of her word with those she called her family. He wasn't too bothered by the matter however, as long as she was healthy and happy, he would be happy as well. At the end of the years schooling, when she was due to come home for the summer, Frankie had been delayed, and was unable to pick his daughter up - a long held tradition between the two. Kelly had reassured her father over the phone, telling him that she had managed to procure another lift, and that she would be home shortly, but he supposed it was a fatherly trait to worry for his child.

It was a little past six in the evening when Kelly arrived home, half an hour later than usual but that was to be expected, and Frankie took an instant disliking to the driver, especially when he saw the way his daughter interacted with him, or rather, the way they both interacted with each other. Kelly had grinned in her usual way on seeing her father, not sensing any problems, and had introduced Frankie to the man who had drove her home; Flash Harry, who was essentially a spiv, but who's family had been connected with St Trinian's for three generations. Flash, as he grinned at Frankie to call him, had been up at the school handing in a message that Miss Fritton had requested that he had managed to find, when he overheard Kelly's phone call and offered to give her a lift home, which she had accepted as it seemed better than hanging around the school for a few hours. Kelly's grandmother had looked at the man, obviously knowing something Frankie didn't, and invited him inside for tea, at the very least, to thank him for getting Kelly home safely. It had been a relatively nice tea, with Flash obviously trying his hardest not to offend any of them, but Frankie couldn't help but remember the smile his daughter had given this man inside his jeep, and it wasn't a smile he liked.

It was then that Frankie began to realise that no matter how much he might not like it, his daughter was becoming an adult, every bit the model of stunning sophistication, just like her mother had been. Brains and beauty, and definitely her father's daughter, Frankie simply had to accept that Kelly was an adult, and could make her own choices in life, which included liking whoever she wanted to.

Though that didn't mean he had to like anyone who tried to steal her from him.


	3. Chelsea Parker: So Blonde?

_**A/N:** So here we have the third chapter of "The Name of the Game," this time focusing on one of the three members of the Posh Totty: Chelsea Parker. As with Kelly's chapter, the backstory featured in this chapter is entirely fictional but like I've stated before, seems to fit best with the character. Reviews are cookies and cookies are love!

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Chelsea Parker was the only daughter of Charles Parker, heir to the famous Parker fortune, was destined to be a fool. Her paternal grandmother had spoiled her father, treating him as a child when he was married and had his own business. Her mother, Tallulah Parker, a famous and loved actress of the West End in her day, often wondered what she had let herself in for when she married Charles, but she loved him dearly, and did try her best to make things work with his mother, even though she couldn't stand Ruth.

When her daughter was born, Tallulah was determined to make sure that her daughter would not grow up unprepared to live in the real world, much unlike her father. However, her plans were quickly set aside by her mother-in-law, not to mention her husband's blind agreements to his mother's suggestions. Her mother-in-law insisted that Chelsea was to be educated, when she came to the right age, at a school which would teach her to be a proper lady. Tallulah looked Ruth in the eye, and informed her clearly that she would agree to what she was insisting on the condition that it was herself who had final choice over her daughter's school. Ruth had agreed almost blindly, pleased that she was getting his own way for once.

So it was throughout her daughters early years that Tallulah carefully looked through different all girl's school brochures', picking and choosing between the best and the worst of them. It wasn't long before Chelsea was due to start at secondary school that she came across the brochure for St Trinian's School for Young Ladies. She had heard of this school, how couldn't she have? It's very name was infamous throughout Britain, well known for the girls being fearsome people and, as Tallulah decided, well equipped with the methods they would need to survive in the world as it stood. It was with a self satisfied smirk that she sent off the application forms for her daughter's entry to St Trinian's.

If her daughter was going to be forced by her grandmother and her father to grow up a fool; then her mother was going to make sure that she grew up a fool who damn well knew how to take care of herself.

When it finally came time for her secondary schooling, Chelsea had arrived at St Trinian's in style, a stretched silver limo glinting brightly in the sun, blinding those who tried to look directly at it. Chelsea herself was decked out in the finest Yves Saint Laurent designs, Gucci sunglasses perched on her nose, fluttering her eyelashes daintily behind them, ever inch the picture perfect image of stylish perfection in a young girl. She was greeted by the head girl at the time, who was called Penelope James, and had her own little sister Peaches starting that year, and had realised quite quickly that Chelsea and Peaches were 'cut from the same cloth,' as the saying went, so cleverly arrange for them to be roomed near each other.

It wasn't to say that Chelsea was completely out of touch with the rest of the girls of St Trinian's, but it was fair to say that the behaviour of her fellow students came as quite a shock to her system, but she somehow never better than to write home complaining about the matter. If her mother had chosen this school, it was for a reason, and though she may never know this reason, she would do her best to find her place the school, come hell or high water. Surprisingly, she hadn't found it all that hard. Her inbuilt sense of style, coupled with the grace she was naturally gifted with, had lead to her becoming a member of the Posh Totty - the name not really being coined until her own time in the fifth form, but they were the Posh Totty all the same. Chelsea, along with her dear friend Peaches, and fellow newcomer Chloe, were the next generation, and were dedicated to keeping up with the latest fashions, the latest hairstyles, everything that made them, well, them.

Even though it was not exactly in the manner Tallulah had hoped, over the years, as Chelsea slowly (or perhaps it was quickly) grew older, she noticed that St Trinian's certainly had shown her a way of taking care of herself in the world. Granted, it had increased her foolishness slightly, but that seemed to fade during her sixth form, when a Miss Dickinson arrived at the school. According to the letters that received from her daughter, Miss Dickinson had pointed out that being smart wasn't just for the geeks, and as a result, Chelsea had oddly began to focus on her studies more, especially after winning at school challenge. Oh, she wouldn't get into Oxford on grades alone, but she was better off than she had been previously, and for that Tallulah was grateful.

Chelsea Parker was definitely her father's daughter when it came to the majority of things in life, but, as School Challenge proved, she had a streak of her mother's cunning in her. And Tallulah was positive that her daughter would do well in life. She was a St Trinian after all.


	4. Andrea: The Emo

_**A/N:**__ So since __**someone**__ decided to pm me and complain about my writing of other fics (to be fair: chapter 25 of TiU had been a long time in the works) I decided that I should probably get back to working on this series of character pieces. To that someone's description of me: make it post makeover and add a touch of geek and emo and you're there. So here's the next in the series of character pieces. Oh yeah, credit to Lilia-Rose, who first came up with the idea of making Andrea a Roman Catholic. Sorry for not asking, but it fitted perfectly with the image of her which I had in mind. I also recommend that everyone go read her fics; as they are utterly fantastic.

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St Trinian's, though always having been a private school, was not necessarily exclusive in the manner that Cheltenham Ladies College were. Each Fritton headmistress seemed to be of the opinion that everyone was entitled to a good education; and that social class; or monetary wealth should not stand in the way of that. Which really was quite lucky for Andrea Thomson, whose family would have been able to afford St Trinian's even if they had had the choice of sending her there; which, of course, they didn't. Her family's relative poverty, in comparison with Chelsea at least, never really bothered Andrea. They could afford to live a fairly comfortable life, so it wasn't as though she had much to worry about.

Andrea's family lived in a rented house, and she was the eldest of two children, both girls, though her younger sister was more what Andrea would coin a Disney princess rather than an emo like herself. She and her sister, who was named Ashley, had often argued on the point, with Ashley claiming quite viciously that the emo lifestyle was nothing more than a way of shamefully stealing someone else's limelight. Andrea had burst her sister's lip for that remark, and though she did confess it at Confession at her local church, she also had confessed that it was worth the punishment she received. Luckily for her, her priest was quite kind, and admitted that though a person may gain momentary happiness for causing pain to their family, it was better to feel the long term happiness of eternal kindness. It also helped that he had remarked that certain articles in the newspaper about certain lifestyles often stemmed from people misunderstanding each other, rather than any truth.

She wasn't sure what that was meant to signify, but at the very least it meant that he felt that it was best not to judge on the way people chose to look.

Her mother, though content to leave her eldest child be if she was happy, wasn't best pleased when Andrea chose to become 'emo', simply if because she feared it meant she wasn't an effective parent. She had been through this feeling before, when Andrea had been expelled from the local faith high school she had been attending, for disruptive behaviour and constant dangerous conduct. It was in a desperate need to find some place that would even consider taking in her unruly daughter that she had sent away application forms to even private schools, and was pleasantly surprised when she had received an acceptance letter from Miss Fritton, which stated if the family could provide enough money to get hold of basic schooling equipment; stationary and the like; St Trinian's would provide the rest. When, after her fourth year of secondary school, and third year at St Trinian's, her daughter had come home decked out in what fast became normal clothing for her, she had worried. The worry didn't last long however, as she quickly learned that her eldest was still her eldest, and still had a quick temper and tendency to slap her little sister.

Ashley had rejected any offer from the school to join it, claming that she couldn't stick hanging around with stuck up rich kids even if her older sister could; and that anyway, all her friends were going to the local comprehensive, and she'd much rather be with them. Andrea found this to be no great loss, but now that her time with St Trinian's grew nearer it's end - she was in the first few weeks of her last year when they had fenced the fake painting for half a bar - she became very aware that the school was going to be without a Thomson presence. Her chosen successor, the purple hair chemical genius that was Saffron, had mostly depleted that awareness. But the point still stood that she was eldest girl in the sixth form, and was very aware that sooner than they would have liked; they would be expected to move on from the school, as gone were the days when the girls could get away with staying on an extra few years. And though that realisation hurt, it came linked on to another one. She supposed it was within that split nano-second that Andrea realised it all.

She may have to leave the school building; but she couldn't leave what was part of herself. She was a St Trinian, and like it or love it, nothing would ever change that fact.


	5. Celia: Trustrafarian

_**A/N: **__This has been sitting in my documents for a bit ... finally being uploaded!

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Celia lived in a world that was entirely of her own creation. No one really knew why, or how it was that she had come to live in this world, but they were all aware that this world was were she was happy to stay. For the most part, no one other than her mother saw any really problems with her enjoying her world. It wasn't as though she was naïve, she was intelligent enough to not lose herself in her fantasies completely, but her mother was insistent that her daughter was to grow up, and become a proper lady. Celia often wondered if her mother had been brought her from the 19th century, for she seemed to be more old fashioned than her great-grandmother.

Celia was not Celia's full name, of course, and did not include her title. Her full name, including title, was the Lady Celia Cassandra Marie Elizabeth Knighton-Gregory, only daughter of Lord and Lady Oliver James Knighton-Gregory, and she resided in Kensington, in a rather quaint old house, near to Kensington Gardens, when not undertaking her school as St Trinian's School for Young Ladies. Which happened to be the only school that was willing to accept her rather odd ways. And hairstyle.

If she was asked, Celia would often serenely reply that she was at school simply as that was expected of her, which included going to a proper university - either Oxford where her father had attended, or Cambridge, like her mother - but as soon as she was free of all expectations, she planned to take herself off to Paris, to live a bohemian lifestyle, become an artist, and have a string of many different lovers. It was at that point that people began to realise that Celia live in her own world because it was simply so much more interesting than the life her parents had planned out for her - which included a respectable job perhaps in the civil service, with a pre-planned marriage to the son of one of her father's business colleagues, and a summer home in the south of France. It was clear to those who knew of this plan, which happened to be all of those in Celia's year, having been present at her 16th birthday ball during the summer where Kelly had overheard Celia's mother telling Celia all of this, that this simply didn't fit their friend, the only girl who could wander amongst the different cliques, barely taking notice of anything other than her own creative thoughts.

No one ever questioned Celia's thoughts, there was no point in trying too, since they only made sense to her. On occasion she would have a brilliant brain flash, which often proved itself to be very helpful in whatever situation they happened to be in, but this happened at random occurrences, and no one could pin-point when the next one might occur. But it never really mattered anyway, they would just let her be her, it was only fair, especially when her life was planned out for her, not taking into consideration what she might want.

No wonder she lived in a world entirely of her own creation.


	6. Taylor: The Chav

_**A/N: **__Apologises if this does seem shorter than the other chapters - I swear it looks longer on Word ... Anyways, I dedicate this chapter to Lila-Rose, whose birthday it is. Many happy returns, and hope you have a great day hen.

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Taylor McKenzie was loud, brash, and rude.

At least, at school she was loud, brash and rude. At home it was an entirely different story, though this was mostly due to her not wanting to upset her grandparents, who she lived with after her mum kicked her out when she was expelled from her fifth school. She wasn't all that bothered about it herself, she didn't think much of any of the schools she had been sent too, and considered herself quite cool for being expelled from five different schools within her first year of secondary schooling.

But of course, it broke her grandmother's heart, to see her youngest grandchild off the rails so early in life. Truth be told, she wasn't surprised at it happening; she always did claim that Taylor was most like her, but that didn't mean that she wanted to see it happen. It was when Taylor arrived at her front door, suitcase in hand, that her grandmother decided something must be done, so she wrote off to the school that she herself had went to, the infamous St Trinian's.

Again, she wasn't surprised when they accepted Taylor without a single problem.

Taylor, for her part, wasn't all that interested in the prospective of going to a public school, thinking that the girls who went to them turned out to be insufferable little snobs who were good for nothing more than being her punch bag. However, she knew that her grandmother only wanted the best for her, and she did hate upsetting the old bag, so she went along with the plan.

She was quite surprised to find out that she enjoyed herself much more than she ever thought she would


	7. Polly: The Geek

_**A/N:**__ Woot, another chapter uploaded. So, here is where I turn to you - my lovely reviewers. Which character would like you to see a short on next? The twins? Miss Dickinson? Beverly? Post the name in a review and you'll see next chapter around. Until then, enjoy!  


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Polly Locke was the daughter of a successful computer technology designer; and an important research scientist and head lecturer of chemistry at York University. In short, she was born smart. For most first 12 years of her life she was taught at home - her parents having no real faith that the education system would engage her intelligence - by only the finest of tutors. This made her feel quite alone at times; though she found a friend in her neighbour; Kelly Jones, with whom she became not the best of friends, but close.

It was when she was 14 years old that her parents realised that having her cooped up at home all wasn't perhaps the wisest of ideas that they had come up with in their time as parents. This realization was helped along by discovering that their daughter had hacked into many different high security computer systems, which included NASA and the Pentagon. Her father, an expert with computers, was impressed to learn that she had managed to block anyone from tracking her. Her mother gave her father into trouble for encouraging her.

At an end with what to do, the Locke's consulted with Jane, Kelly's grandmother, who handed them a brochure for St Trinian's, a private boarding school which was used to dealing with … well, as Jane put it to Mary - Polly's mother - St Trinian's never turned a girl away. Mary had been interested at this, though she highly doubted that the school would provide the intellectual stimulus that she insisted Polly needed to flourish properly.

Jane had pointed out gently, though firmly, that Polly was intellectually stimulated enough, it was fun and conversation with other girls her own age that she needed most of all. Mary had to agree, especially when she overheard Kelly and Polly whispering about plans to hack into their own bank accounts.

So Polly was sent off to St Trinian's at the beginning of the school year, unlike Kelly who didn't join her until later in the year. From what her mother could gather with the emails she received, Polly was enjoying herself greatly. She was ahead of the other girls in her year; something which she might have been bullied for in other schools, but was apparently using in this school in something which she referred to as a tutor system.

At the end of that email she added that she didn't need any pocket money for a bit - she had earned enough to do her to the winter holidays.

Mary realised that though she may be hard to beat when it came to her knowledge in chemistry, when it came to her daughter, she was probably going to be forever surprised.


	8. Tara and Tania: First Years

_**A/N:**__ Woot, another chapter of this fic! As far as named students go, I have Peaches, Chloe, Saffron, Anoushka and Annabelle to go. Though considering we learn about Annabelle in the movie I am debating whether or not to writer up her chapter. Then it's the staff and maybe a few of the other characters. So which student would you like to see next? Tell me in a review. And on we go with the show

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Tara and Tania Mackie had grown up in a foster home and, as a result, were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, thank you very much. They didn't really like talking about it much, simply as they felt there was more to them than being care home kids. They were well aware of their own history, they had seen the file, knowing well how thick it was. Their father had left their mum when she was pregnant with him, and she in return had never really wanted them, not properly, so that's how they ended up at the home.

How they ended up at St Trinian's was something quite different entirely.

It was their counsellor's idea really. He had first suggested St Trinian's to the head care worker at their home. He had visited the girls at their old school, and seen how they interacted there. To call them wild was possibly an understatement, but their intelligence shone through it. And he had a soft spot for the girls, he only really wanted the best for them. His sister had gone to St Trinian's, and despite it's non conventional ways, she had turned out perfectly well. So, taking the initiative, he wrote to the Headmistress of St Trinian's, inviting her to visit the twins at the home.

It took less than a week for him to gain a reply, and two weeks after, Camilla Fritton visited the twins. Within the month their placement at St Trinian's was signed sealed and delivered, to start from the beginning of the next school year.

When they arrived at St Trinian's, Tara and Tania were the youngest girls in the school. Something which they didn't let hinder them in the slightest, which was noticeable with how quickly they got the other first formers to fall in line under their rule. It was that action which placed them straight on the list of being joint Head Girls, when the time came of course.

Tara and Tania had also won the hearts of the majority of the sixth form girls, all of whom saw them as their own adorable baby sisters. Through their usual way, they had found out about the twin's situation. The next day Miss Fritton had to close her study door - something which she hated doing - simply because the girls kept storming in, demanding to know how they could go about getting hold of adoption papers for the twins. As it stood, Kelly Jones and her family were the most likely candidates to be allowed to adopt the twins, as both of them adored Kelly, and Kelly's father was happy to adopt the two girls, having met them during half term, when he came to pick Kelly up, and being amused by their tales of the term.

They have started out their life not being wanted, and it may have seemed to stay the same way for most of their life, but if St Trinian's had proved anything to Tara and Tania, it had proved that they were not alone. And that they never would be.

They were St Trinianians after all.


	9. Anoushka: Ice Queen

_**A/N:**__ I don't often dedicate chapters, but I'd like to dedicate this particular one to the very clever girl who put a hint in her own fic just to get me writing. You're just awesome, y'know that right? On we go with the chapter!

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Anoushka Srbova was royalty, on her mother's side, and didn't she just know it? Her every step was calculated, and every poise that came from her was to best show over her natural beauty. Technically speaking, they were disposed Russian royalty, but every girl at the school had long since learned to never bring that up in her presence - it was safer for one's health. Her father was a Russian diplomat, and she often spent her summers in the homes of the aristocracy - she had first met Celia this way, though she didn't think much of the Trustafarian, besides thinking that her hair looked as though it needed delousing, and then possibly burning.

Anoushka's arrival at St Trinian's had been a quiet and hurried affair. Her parents were important figures in the political world, and it was feared that she was at risk from being kidnapped, so they had searched for a school in the middle of nowhere to leave her. It turned out not only was St Trinian's isolated, but the students were feared by the majority of the criminal world, so she was sure to be safe there.

She was the oldest in her year group, having been held back due to her difficulties with the English language. She didn't let this trivial matter bother her however, as there were advantages to being the oldest in the year group. For one, she developed earlier than the other girls, meaning that she could enjoy the privilege of being the prettiest in the year. This was particularly helpful in her second to last year at the school, when she discovered it was expected for the top two years to help the local spiv - a Flash Harry - with his dealings.

She would be lying if she said she didn't find him attractive.

It wasn't hard for her to catch his eye, considering that he refused to look at other girls due to the fact that they were not of 'legal' age, and he had made a promise to Miss Fritton about that. She rather enjoyed his flirtations with her, and was sure that he enjoyed them being reciporacted. At that time, it looked as though she was definitely going to become Head Girl, so the only thing she had to concern herself with was keeping his attention - again, something she considered to be too very easy.

It was in the sixth form that everything fell apart.

She returned from her summer holiday to discover that too-confident-for-her-own-good Kelly Jones had been awarded the position of Head Girl above her. This move angered her greatly, but she refused to let it show; showing emotions were a weakness that she would not allow to mar her looks. And anyway, she still had her usual flirtation sessions with Flash to look forward to.

She wondered if the way events unfolded were a rather cruel way of teaching her that nothing is to be taken for granted.

Flash's affections had changed from her, and without her noticing, to the same girl who took her position. Kelly didn't even give him a single crumb of hope! Well ... not that Anoushka noticed anyway. And when it suited her, there was a lot she didn't notice.


End file.
